


Best (Worst) Laid Plans

by ChristineP



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-04
Updated: 2011-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-26 20:57:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristineP/pseuds/ChristineP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now all he had to do was figure out a way to get Draco Malfoy to notice him as something other than a nuisance. Something told him the plan was the easy part; convincing Mr Malfoy? He almost decided to remain a virgin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best (Worst) Laid Plans

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction set in the Harry Potter universe – all recognizable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No profit is made from this work.  
Warning(s): Sexual content. Everyone’s over eighteen in the story.

'Best ~~Worst~~ Laid Plans'  
by: Christine

***

 

Albus walked morosely down the street, occasionally stopping to peer at window displays of the shops lining the street. One particular display caught his eye; a single mannequin, standing alone.

“Yeah, mate, I know how you feel. I’m alone myself,” Albus whispered sadly to the mannequin. _Merlin, I’m going mad. I’m standing here, talking through a window to a plastic doll._ He shook his head and sighed.

Albus always had a thing for older men. The first man he fancied in school was his Herbology teacher. He never told anyone he was into the more mature crowd, let alone men.

Besides keeping his personal life personal, he didn’t want to disappoint his family, least of all his father with his preferences. His mother was repeatedly dropping hints about wanting grandchildren. Lily only brought by one guy for Christmas and as far as he knew, they were still together. James was a rolling stone, moving from one pair of lips to the next faster than a Firebolt 3000. Their father never said much to any of them, simply wanting them to find their own way in life. But he had a feeling that he wanted grandchildren just as much as their mother did.

So he did what he thought was expected of him: he occasionally dated girls, thought about finding a nice wife and having children someday. But beneath all the subterfuge, he secretly desired nothing more than the touch of men.

To feed his fetish, he often snuck peeks at his male classmates in the showers; that was why he’d joined the Quidditch team, after all. He also threw casual glances during school day, studying how the school robes draped slightly over the arse of one of his masculine fancies walking by. He wasn’t quite sure why he was mostly drawn to older men, but presumed their experience had a lot to do with his attraction.

After finishing school, he busied himself working at the Ministry to take his mind off of his dilemma, which he found, to his dismay, only increased his desire as he found himself often surrounded by men several years older than himself. It was quite a struggle to pull himself away from staring at them long enough to finish his work. It was a miracle he hadn’t been sacked.

If he only found that perfect someone, he thought. Then he’d have nothing to worry about; then he wouldn’t be wasting his time commiserating with lifeless store displays. Sighing, Albus pried himself away from his miserable thoughts and started back up the street to his flat.

So occupied he was from his perusal he failed to keep his feet and ran headlong into someone. As a flurry of newspaper drifted around him, Albus winced. He really should leave the brooding for when he was safely inside his flat and away from innocent bystanders. He leapt up and gathered the stray papers, carelessly stacking them in no particular order. “Ahh! I am so sorry, sir!” he spilled in a rush, straightening the papers then extending the fallen a hand. “Are you okay?”

“Spectacular, if you don’t count the bruise now forming on my arse,” the stranger replied, accepting his hand before dusting himself off.

Albus laughed nervously, before scrutinizing his latest victim. The man was elegantly dressed in fitted black robes and his silver-blond hair lightly framed his handsome pointed features. By the time he was drawn into those piercing grey eyes, Albus was sure he was drooling. He continued to stare, wondering why the stranger looked so familiar.

He blinked suddenly, realizing the blond was talking to him.

“…and from the glazed look in your eye, you’ve either soiled yourself or you aren't paying attention. Hello? Can you hear me? … Hmph! Thank goodness you haven't seriously injured me so I won't press charges. Do watch who you run into, next time, little boy; I doubt they will be as forgiving as I.”

Albus cursed the telling heat rising to his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I thought—it’s just … you look familiar. Have we met before?”

The blond looked down at him with an odd expression on his face. After a moment, he replied, “Perhaps you went to school with my son?”

“Oh?” Albus asked, scrunching his brow in thought. “Who would that be?”

He swallowed as he was eyed critically with a raised eyebrow. Maybe he’d sprouted another head. Hopefully this one had a wicked poker face to retain some of his dignity. “Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy.”

His eyebrows flew towards his hairline. “Scorpius? _You’re_ his father?” Albus asked incredulously. The resemblance started to appear in bits, from the same facial shape to the thin lips and sharp nose, though the revelation still stunned him. He’d known Scorpius from school, having had classes and assignments with him on occasion. He’d been polite and well spoken and unlike the Slytherins of his parents’ school days, he actually got along well with students from other houses.

Scorpius had mentioned his father a few times, but his appearance had never been the topic of conversation. Staring at the chiseled face before him, Albus could see why. Even _he_ had frightened a few people from how much he looked like his father.

His parents also mentioned a Mr Malfoy a few dozen times, but neither of them had elaborated any further.

Minutes passed before his musings were disrupted by a throat clearing, bringing him back to the impatiently haughty face above his. He swallowed. Mr Malfoy did not look pleased in the slightest. “As fascinating as it is to stand here and chat, I really must be off. Good day. And _please_ watch your step next time to save someone else from this unpleasantness.” With a strained smirk, Mr Malfoy spun on his heel and strode away with a grace he envied.

Albus watched almost longingly as Mr Malfoy sauntered down the street. Despite his embarrassment, right then and there, he knew that he’d just let the perfect man slip through his fingers with his unawareness and off-putting awkwardness. Merlin. He was going to be a virgin forever.

Unless ... but no. He couldn’t _possibly_... there was absolutely no way that Mr Malfoy would fall for that. He should just put it out of his mind, forget this day and his not-so-slim to none chances with him. Sighing, he stared at the crumpled newspaper in his hands, his only evidence that their encounter did happen.

Shaking his head, Albus moved to toss it in the rubbish bin—any reminder would be like a kick in the head—and froze, staring at the same artless mannequin in the display window. The lonely one, just like him. With a slight frown, he peered down at the wrinkled _Prophet_ , letting that false hope manifest one more time. He had two options: he could toss the paper and forget entertaining any notion of sex and Mr Malfoy, or he could take a chance. Glancing at the mannequin once more, he tightened his hands around the newspaper, deciding he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t try. No regrets.

Now all he had to do was figure out a way to get Draco Malfoy to notice him as something other than a nuisance. Something told him the plan was the easy part; convincing Mr Malfoy? He almost decided to remain a virgin. It was a damn good thing Mr Malfoy was perfect.

==========

The next day, Albus finalized his plan to seduce Draco Malfoy. It was a little odd thinking of him by his given name, but if he wanted to get shagged, he needed to change his perspective. Frowning uneasily, he made his way over to his desk, pulled out quill and parchment, and began writing a letter.

It took him a few hours to come up with what exactly he wanted to say. His floor was littered with discarded balls of parchment. Each time he wrote a sappy, desperate-sounding paragraph or two, he’d groan aloud, crumple it up and toss it over his shoulder. He was lucky he’d managed to string two words together, as nervous as he had been.

With a flourish—and a swell of pride at not having lost his nerve, he signed his name at the bottom of the letter. Folding it neatly, he sealed it with a swish of his wand and called to his owl as he hastily addressed the front.

“Horatio?”

His snowy white owl, his familiar since his first day at Hogwarts, hooted in response. He had been a present from his father in honor of his fallen companion, Hedwig.

Flying from his perch, Horatio landed on his desk with an inquiring hoot. “Take this to Draco Malfoy,” he instructed, attaching the letter to his leg, and rose from his seat to open the window. All of that saucy writing had made him a tad warm around the collar. Now if only that cool air was not a breeze, but the soft puff of Draco’s breath on him…

Horatio hooted softly before flapping his wings and taking to the sky.

A sudden feeling of unease churned through him as he watched his owl become a speck in the clouds. Had he just made the biggest mistake of his life, being so blunt with a man he barely knew? Goodness; he’d been stupid to think he could handle this. If he was lucky, Mr Malfoy would keep this juicy bit of humiliation just between family. But who was he fooling?

He sighed quietly to himself and slumped into his chair, defeated. So much for no regrets. Too late to turn back now.

==========

A week had gone by without word. Albus didn’t know why he really expected a response. He was quite sure Draco had received his letter by now, laughed, and burned it with the rest of his junk post. That had been his most optimistic outcome. The other, he was just biding him time before Malfoy showed up and cursed him six ways from Sunday. Either way, Albus had spent the time alternating between the possibilities, fretting over his fate.

He incessantly wasn’t sure why he even thought it had been a good idea in the first place. For all he knew, Draco was happily married to his wife and would never in a million years think of him as anything but a child. And one who was his _son’s_ age, for the love of Merlin.

Closing his eyes, he leaned back in his armchair and frowned. Maybe he’d wait another week for a reply. Mr Malfoy was probably preoccupied; all that wealth and power couldn’t maintain itself, after all. Or maybe he hadn’t even read his letter yet. Yeah, that was it. Albus nodded to himself, convinced.

Yes, he was busy canoodling with French liaisons or preparing for a sit down with a Spanish diplomat on the importance of—Oh, who was he kidding?!

Draco was never going to give him the time of day. It was a lost cause from its very inception. He was only fooling himself by aiming so high and thinking he could play with the high rollers when he had no idea how to play the game.

Sighing heavily, he declared it would be better if he moved on. He would look elsewhere for a partner. In a world this big and wide, there was bound to be someone out there for him. It was too bad that someone wasn’t who he’d wanted it to be.

Just as he was about to begin his scheduled afternoon brood, a knock startled him from his thoughts. Funny; he wasn’t expecting visitors today, and Horatio certainly hadn’t grown knuckles in his time away. And anyone in his family would drop in unannounced via the Floo network. That was a particularly nasty habit of James’, learned from their mother, who, along with their Uncle Ron learned it from their grandmother, Molly.

There was another sharp rap on the door. Impatient, were they? Part of him was wondering if it really was one of his family members; he sighed wearily, hoping James hadn’t tried to drunken firecall his grate and once failing, decided to vent in person. He didn’t think he could do this a second time this month… Furrowing his brow, Albus stood and crossed the room in brisk strides fueled by his curiosity.

Opening the door, he stood rooted to the spot in surprise when he saw his impatient visitor standing in the corridor. “M-Mr Malfoy,” he stammered, quelling the urge to slam the door in his perfect face and splutter apologies from his side. “This is a … shock. Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here?” Albus asked, bewildered.

Grey eyes eyed him sharply. Albus swallowed. That look certainly spoke volumes, and not good ones. It also made him want to fall to his knees and worship the man.

Draco peered closely at him before responding, “I think you are quite aware of the reason for this visit." In the next second he was staring into the creased face of a square of parchment. Albus easily recognized his scratchy scrawl on the face.

Right. He wondered if Draco would hold it against him for dying on his shiny and expensive shoes. Dying of humiliation or pleasure or both or nothing or everything. He blanked his features when he saw the look on Mr Malfoy’s face. He could tell he was reading his emotions quite clearly and _that_ was just fucking hot.

“Of course. But before you hex me in a thousand pieces, I’d like to explain myself, if you’ll allow me to? Erm, please come in.” he offered, opening the door wider and gesturing him to come inside. Thank goodness he had been so nervous he’d compulsively cleaned every inch of his place every single day to distract himself. Of course, that hadn’t worked. Every flat surface was just another potential bed to him. God, he hated being a virgin.

He waited until Draco crossed the doorway before closing the door. Taking a steadying breath, he inwardly mapped out his argue points and steeling himself, turned around.

Before he could say a word, the wind was knocked out of his lungs as he was slammed against the door, Draco pressed obscenely close to his body, kissing him. He couldn’t help the thrill that shot through him, feeling his cock harden almost instantly at Draco’s demanding kiss.

“So I’m guessing you got my letter?” Albus awkwardly asked when his mouth was finally freed.

Draco didn’t respond, instead continuing to invade his personal space, pressing insistent lips against his. Albus’ eyes widened in astonishment before he closed them, relaxing enough to enjoy the hard kiss and evaluate the situation.

Draco was kissing him. Draco. Was kissing. _Him._ Not shouting or spitting in his face or spluttering a rash of jinxes. _Kissing him._ Oh, God, was this real? Or a fantasy? Was this right? Wrong? Merlin, he didn’t care. All he wanted was him, _all_ of him. Finally, he was getting it.

He thought his spine might snap in two from the way Draco was crushing him to the door. After a few moments, Draco pulled away and held him still with a hungry look that made him both nervous and extremely turned on.

“I did indeed receive your letter,” Draco huskily replied. Albus moaned as he ran his tongue along his swollen lip. “It was quite daring of you to assume I’d be remotely interested.”

For a brief moment, his insides froze. What did he mean exactly? Was he in trouble? Was this … he swallowed thickly, clutching harder to Draco’s robes. Was this just a tease? A game to show him he could look, but never have?

His stomach flopped. Stupid, stupid virgin he was; that he ever thought Mr. Malfoy would consider doing anything with him. This was taking it pretty far for a simple joke. If it was, he had no idea how he would be able to handle it. He couldn’t be expected to taste excellence and settle for average, not after this.

His fears were erased when he caught the twinkle in Draco’s ravenous eyes. “Luckily for you, I am.”

Albus gasped and closed his eyes as Draco dove forward for another round. He trembled slightly as he felt Draco’s hands at his shirt buttons, deftly undoing each one as their mouths locked together. He hesitantly reciprocated the gesture, unfastening buttons and pushing the dark green robe from the blond’s shoulders. Albus slid his shirt off once Draco undid the last button. He seized him tightly, willing himself not to come when the blond’s hands hurriedly tugged at his trouser fastenings. This was it. If he squeezed his knees together long enough to hold on until _the_ moment, he could die a happy man.

He timidly moved his trembling hands to Draco’s trousers, loosening the clasps before sliding the zip down. He moaned as he felt his own trousers pool around his ankles and nearly bit Draco’s tongue when his warm hand slipped into his boxers and squeezed his cock.

When they were finally nude, Draco pulled away from him to rake over his form with an appreciative eye. Albus felt self-conscious, even with the hungry look in his eyes. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever experienced, but he was so damn nervous. When Draco bent over to rummage through their discarded clothing, he watched intently, sighing approvingly as he surreptitiously looked over Draco’s sleek form, including a nice view of his arse.

He froze to the spot when Draco stood up and pointed his wand at him. “Wha—?” He closed his eyes and gasped as he felt first a tingle in his arse before if became slick, then one through his body. He didn’t know what the second was for having not deciphered the words in Draco’s whispers.

Dropping his wand, Draco moved back to stand in front of him and lifted him up against the wall. Albus unconsciously wrapped his legs around Draco’s waist, realizing that the second spell cast must have been a Lightening Spell. Then, it was right there. The tip of Draco’s cock was nudging at his entrance. Oh, God. A very heavy, very real feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach, like a warm beast waking from a long nap. Albus swallowed a gasp and squeezed the flesh beneath his hands so tightly he was sure it would bruise the pale skin. Draco hadn’t said one word of complaint, though.

As Draco pressed forward, he stopped him. “Um, wait a second,” Albus said softly, holding onto his shoulders like a lifeline.

Draco paused, staring at him impatiently. “What’s wrong? You want this, right?”

Albus ducked his head. Wrong move: not only was his purpling erection glaring at him, but Draco’s length was also there, equally darkened, and moving in time with his panting breaths. No pressure, though, right? “Of course I do, but, I’m a, uh … I’m a virgin. I didn’t want you forcing your way into me assuming anything. I’m not really into pain.”

Draco’s parted mouth closed into a thin line, and the impatience slid from his face. “I see.”

Albus almost winced at his expressionless tone. “Yeah. I do want this, though.”

“All right. I can take things slowly,” said Draco, shifting his weight to move a hand from Albus’ hip, along his flank, and finally to his arse. Albus’ throat suddenly went dry as he rubbed around until his finger came in contact with his slick hole. After a few gentle strokes, Draco slowly eased his finger inside him.

Albus inhaled sharply through his nose and lolled his head against the door, feeling the probing finger ready him, stretch him for Draco’s cock. For a brief moment, the finger disappeared only to be replaced with two. He writhed in discomfort at the full feeling, but did not pull away. A few minutes later, Draco removed his fingers entirely, slid both hands down Albus’ arse cheeks to spread him open as he positioned himself.

Draco took a moment to adjust his stance before he slowly pushed into his body. At his sharp intake of breath, Draco coolly whispered into his ear, “Relax for me.”

He tried to relax, but he couldn’t help tense up at the first push, puffing through clenched teeth as Draco kept sliding forward until he was fully seated.

“Merlin,” Albus whispered in awe. “I can feel you. I feel so full.”

Draco’s unsteady breath hitched in a chuckle. “It gets better.”

His lips were pressing against his again, panting through each breath as Draco began to move. Albus locked his ankles tightly around Draco’s hips, gripping his shoulders in a tight grasp as he felt the length of his cock slide in and out of him, over and over. He clenched his arse and moaned when Draco hit something inside of him that caused stars to dance before his vision. He whined pitifully into the blond’s shoulder.

Draco’s pace quickened, and he slammed into him roughly with each thrust. Albus cried out, clawing at his shoulders and back for dear life as he was banged against the door, the wind knocked out of him. As he hissed and moaned, he felt his cock bouncing viciously between them, trapped between their stomachs. He wanted to bring a hand to his neglected cock, but was too afraid he’d fall if he let go of Draco’s shoulders. He didn’t have to worry though with the way his cock was rubbing between them, he wasn’t too concerned on bringing himself off. It took no time for him to clench even tighter around Draco’s cock before spurting on his front.

Draco gasped harshly in his ear before he felt his insides flood with come and they stood there, still entwined and catching their breaths.

Slowly, Draco pulled away once their breathing evened. Albus winced as he slipped wetly from his body, glancing down to notice a thin line of come still connected them for the briefest of moments before it snapped. For some reason, he took that as a sign of things to come. Surely, now that’d he’d got what he’d wanted, Draco was going to turn around and disappear, never to talk of this again. His stomach twisted in knots. He hadn’t thought this far ahead; he didn’t think he’d be ready for Draco’s cruel words. He unlocked his ankles from around Draco’s hips and released his death grip on his shoulders. Once his feet were back on the ground, Albus leaned weakly against the door. His legs felt like limp noodles, not to mention his sore bottom.

He watched under a heavy-lidded gaze as Draco fished for his clothes, slowly redressing after he waved his wand and considerately cleaned them both. With sadness, he watched him methodically dress and, after a second, reached for his own clothes as well. So that was it then. One shag, and they’d never speak of it again. They’d pretend it had never happened.

Which was why he was surprised when Draco moved to his sofa and sat down, stretching out and yawning sleepily. His curiosity getting the better of him, Albus went to sit beside his ... lover? Friend? One night stand? “Um … Mr Malfoy?”

“I think, after what we just did a moment ago, you are quite entitled to call me Draco.”

He blinked, but acquiesced. “Er, Draco, not that I don’t want you to stay, but … _are_ you staying?”

He waited as Draco mulled in silence before answering carefully. “Well, I’ve never been one for one night stands. And I’m too tired to use the Floo or Apparate. If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay the night.”

Albus froze in place, utterly floored. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Yes, Draco may have said he was too tired to leave right now, but the look that he’d given him seemed to belie what he really meant. In their stories, his parents had always said there were times when they could almost tell Draco was lying through his teeth.

“Okay,” he finally replied. “I’d like that. Did you, uh … want to sleep on the couch, or my bed? I could stay out here.”

“You’re just as dunderheaded as your father,” Draco snorted, mildly riling him. But he melted when those grey eyes popped open and held his eyes. The air in his lungs disappeared in one fell swoop. “I don’t care where I lay my head, as long as we’re resting together. Besides, I enjoy body heat. At my age, one tends to chill easily.”

Albus closed his mouth, not realizing he’d been gaping. Again, Draco was lying, probably as a means of self-preservation. So he merely nodded wordlessly, letting him keep his dignity. For now. Right now, he was too tired to move and made himself comfortable beside his … Draco. When Draco shifted closer to him, he said nothing. Maybe there was some truth after all to that body heat admission. When a hesitant arm draped over his waist, he hid a smile in Draco’s collar and closed his eyes.

He had finally got what he wanted. He’d shagged. Better yet, he’d shagged his perfect man. Now here he was, resting easily in the company of Draco, whose quiet snores ruffled his messy hair. Whether he stayed the entire night or for longer, Albus wasn’t worried. Only time would tell.

End


End file.
